Cold as Ice in the Fires of War
by AspenFae
Summary: Alexander Trevelyan is everything to be expected of the youngest of three born to an Free Marcher noble. He's cold, stoic, well versed in politics and the perfect child. That is until he falls out of a rip in the veil that separates The material world and the fade. Join Alex as he tries to unite a land divided by years of hatred while trying to prove he's not just some youngest son


Heyo Everyone! Wow it's been a long time. Although everyone keeps loving my Hunters Hunted story. Please if you would tell me why? I seriously have no clue why you people like that story. But none the less. I've been playing a lot of Dragon age lately and then this happened. I'm going to try to remember to continue it but if I for get I need you guys to get on my ass about it, yeah? Okay, well enjoy this story. i hope it doesn't suck. Love yall,

Aspen Fae

Pain. That was the first thing that Alexander Trevelyan noticed as he slowly came back to consciousness. The dull pounding pain in his head that felt like someone was pressing on his skull and the sharp burning pain in his left hand. He slowly opened his eyes and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the crude light of the room. He groaned as he stretched his neck, the stiffness he felt telling him that he had been unconscious for more than a few hours. He then noticed that his hands were shackled.  
What the hell? Confusion rose up with a thousand questions as he looked around the room. It was made of stone and solid, very obviously built to withstand the centuries. It was lit by a few torches and chains were on the walls. His eyes widened as it suddenly all clicked into place. The stone cell, the chains, the shackles. He was a prisoner. His foggy mind was stumbling over the new information, too groggy to make sense of any of it. Suddenly pain began to blossom in his left hand. He looked at when green light exploded from it, blinding him. Burning pain shot up his arm causing him to gasp. The light stopped as abruptly as it had come and the pain soon faded away. Nothing like a good dose of pain to wake you up and now Alex was most definitely awake. He heard a door open and groaned as he was blinded by the bright light invading the room. He blinked a few times to refocus his vision and after he saw that no less than four armed men in Templar armor had come in and had their swords pointed at him. Then he noticed the two women. One was in purplish armor with the symbol of the seekers on her breast plate. Her hair seemed to be black in the dank lighting and she had an Iron band in her hair as well. She had tan skin and a scar going from her cheek bone to her jaw on one side of her face. She glared daggers at him. He saw the second one in a shadowed corner. She blended in well, so well in fact that she'd probably be invisible to anyone who didn't know she was there, that is anyone but him. The one with black hair approached him angrily.  
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right where you stand." The woman growled.  
"Well, I'm not actually standing." He reminded her. His head cracked to the side as her gloved hand cracked across his face. He turned back to face her, glaring icily.  
"The conclave is destroyed," Cassandra continued, "everyone who attended is dead… accept for you." He kept his jaw set, saying nothing.  
"How do you explain this?!" The woman grabbed his arm and lifted it up roughly to show the pulsing gash of green light across his palm. It let off a blast of light and pain again shot through his hand. Alex clenched his teeth to keep from showing any sign of pain. She dropped it as the light faded. He glared up at her.  
"I can't." He answered.  
"What do you mean you can't?!" she demanded outraged. Alex sighed. How did this mark get there? And why did he not remember any of this? He kept his glare like a master, not showing any sign of confusion.  
"I've never seen that mark before and I have no idea how it got there."  
"You're lying!" the woman yelled. She grabbed him by the collar of his armor, hauling him to his feet and slamming him into the wall, her forearm pressing into his throat. He was slightly impressed at how strong she was but the lack of oxygen was making it hard to think.  
"Cassandra we need him!" The other woman yelled, pulling 'Cassandra' off. Alex fell to his knees, gasping for breath. After a moment a few guards roughly shoved him back to where he was originally. Alex took a moment to think. The conclave. Gone. What was happening? What had he missed?  
"I can't believe it. All those people…dead." He said softly, accidentally thinking out loud.  
"What do you remember?" The lady asked. He could see now that she had red hair and paler skin. She had on some kind of robes mixed with armor. Very peculiar.  
"Uh…" he racked his brain trying to pull up something. Suddenly a scene filled his mind. "I remember running… things were chasing me… there was a woman? And then…" he sighed as he got nothing more. He couldn't remember anything. Nothing of the conclave. Nothing at all.  
"Go to the forward camp, Leliana," Cassandra said, "I will take him to the rift." The Leiliana woman nodded and left with the guards, leaving him alone with the royally pissed off Cassandra.  
"Where are you taking me?" He asked. Cassandra said nothing, pulling him harshly to his feet, dragging him outside. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright light before his vision cleared enough for him to see. HE saw he was in the mountains somewhere. There was snow everywhere as well as fires burning on houses and places in the road. He looked up and his eyes widened as he spotted what the fuss was about. Hanging over the Temple of Sacred Ashes was a gigantic tear in the sky.  
"They call it the breach. It was caused by the explosion at the conclave."  
"An explosion can do that?" he asked in disbelief.  
"This one did. And you are the only one who survived." He was about to argue back when suddenly the breach made a horrid explosion noise and the mark on his hand exploded with green light. This time he couldn't hold back his cry as pain coursed through his entire body, causing him to fall to his knees, holding his bound hands to his chest. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, his eyes screwed shut until slowly the pain began to fade. He opened his eyes to come face to face with Cassandra. She had knelt down by him and now stared at him. He was breathing hard as he met her stare fiercely, unwilling to back down.  
"Every time the breach expands your mark spreads, and it is killing you." As if to prove her point a small shock wave of pain shot through him. He made a small noise of pain, looking down before laughing spitefully. His breath came in gasps making it difficult to speak.  
"You… You think I would do this? To myself?" He asked. He looked back up to see her eyes soften a bit at his state. It was obvious to her that it hurt him much more than he let on.  
"Not intentionally. But something caused that explosion and you are our only suspect." She said her eyes hardening again. She began to help him to his feet but he growled and ripped himself from her grasp, getting up on his own. She sighed again and his a hand firmly on his back she began to push him forward. As they went along the wind had begun to pick up and the cold air biting at his exposed face, neck and hands.  
Alex couldn't help but be grateful for Cassandra's presence as he was walked through a small encampment. He kept an expressionless face as he was walked through. People yelled insults at him, some swearing at him, and a few coming close but backing off when Cassandra glared at them.  
"They have already decided your guilt. They need it. We mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justina." Alex Just stared on ahead, ignoring the sting in his heart and the sickening grief in the pit of his stomach. Soon they had passed the camp and reached a kind of bridge when she stopped them and pulled out a knife. His stormy eyes met hers with a challenging glare. Their eyes stayed locked and after a few moments he was aware of the knife moving towards him and then the pain he had expected never came. Instead he felt the ropes that were binding his hands drop to the snow. He looked down at his wrists with a small glare. There were angry red lines where the rope had rubbed his wrists raw. He clenched his teeth as pain rose where the wind attacked the raw skin. He looked ahead, his steel eyes determined. He would know what was going on.


End file.
